


Winter's Chill

by mmmuse



Series: Moments from Poldark [5]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Romantic Fluff, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 01:51:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8231963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmuse/pseuds/mmmuse
Summary: A moment of quiet for Ross and Demelza to share thoughts and memories about family. Inspired from episode 2.05.





	

Ross’s pushed open the door to their bedchamber, pausing as the sound of pouring water reached his ears. “What’s this?” he said with surprise.

“Good evening, Ross,” Demelza said warmly as she set down the empty pail near the foot of the tin bathtub. “I thought you might like a soak.” The fire in the hearth did much to take the chill from his bones after a day underground and a frosty ride home. Light flickered in the wall sconces and on the table near the bed. The smile on her face forced him to conceal the instantaneous concern that always set the corners of his mouth these days, his worry over the state of their finances profound. _They are rushlights of her own making_ , he chided himself, extremely economical and much easier to make than candles. If there was anyone capable of economizing their household expenditures it was his wife.

He touched her arm, brushing a kiss on her cheek. “That sounds like a grand idea, Demelza, thank you.” He shrugged out of his coat, glancing at their son’s cot. “Where is Jeremy?”

“Asleep in the guest room with Jinny and Kate,” Demelza murmured, hanging his coat on the back of the armchair. “It was too cold for them to walk home tonight.” 

His wife’s blue-green eyes flickering up to meet his, a becoming blush rising to her cheeks. Ross swallowed, his fingers pausing as he worked the buttons on his cuffs. He’d spent so many hours away from Nampara, working at Wheal Grace or at Trenwith to plan with Francis and Henshawe, that the raising of the boy had been more or less left to Demelza’s devices, and he suffered no end of guilt for it. His son’s infancy had been fraught with more trials than Julia’s had been, and whenever Jeremy had fallen ill or fractious, Ross had feared the worse. 

_Coward_ , a voice hissed in the back of his mind. It was right: he was a coward on many occasions, leaving the worry and much of the parenting to fall upon Demelza. In doing so, she was often too tired or less-than-desirous of Ross’s attentions late into the night. Now that the boy was over a year old, Ross had found himself a measure more comfortable in engaging with the lad, but those early months of distance had made the bonding more formal than it had been with Julia.

Always the constant comparisons. How long would these go on? And now, to have a quiet evening in the company of his wife after so many months? Ross’s thumb moved up the buttons of his waistcoat with more than a little haste.

“How did it go today?” He started at the sound of Demelza’s voice behind him, her warm fingers gently tugging at the neck of his waistcoat. He relaxed his arms, allowing her to slip the garment free from his shoulders.

_Curiosity or accusation_ , he wondered to himself. Most likely the former, but the fact that the latter always grated on his conscious was growing tiresome. The truth was Demelza had clearly demonstrated her ability to run a household – as shabby as it was – gracefully and without complaint. _For the most part_ , he reminded himself. If she had a complaint it was his continued partnership with Trencrom and the tub carriers. As for that, there was nothing that could be done at the present. It was the only money they’d had to rely upon, until they were able to strike copper, and most of that was being plowed back into the mine.

He knew her concern was centred on his safety and liberty, more than the philosophy. Would Elizabeth have been able to manage as well? The thought had sprung up in his mind, unbidden and unwanted. Similar thoughts had begun to snake through his broodings, ever since the Penvenen’s dinner party, when she’d engaged him in that damnable conversation. Why had she found it necessary to pose questions meant only to reopen a case long since closed? Had he initiated it that night over a year and a half ago after the harvest party at Trenwith? Too much brandy and candlelight. Too much strife and worry at home. God, what a mess he’d made.

“Ross?” 

Her voice drew him from his thoughts, and he raised his hand to cup her cheek. “Some of the samples look promising, but we won’t know for certain until we blast tomorrow.” He smoothed the furrow in her brow with his thumb and was rewarded with a smile. He kissed her, tasting the port she must have had with supper. “Help me with my boots?”

Ten minutes later he sank into the water with a hiss and a groan. “How many cauldrons of water did you boil for this tonight?” he yelped. “Are you attempting to cook me for stew?”

She laughed, dipping the sponge into the tub with nary a wince. “I wasn’t sure when you would be arriving home, so I figured it would be sitting for a while.” She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. “Shall I get some water from outside?”

“No, no,” he grunted, settling himself gingerly on the bottom of the tub. Despite the initial shock, he had to admit it heated him to the bone. He settled back and sighed with pleasure as she squeezed a sponge full of water over his head. “That’s bliss, my dear,” he said, flexing his toes against the foot of the tub before sliding under the surface. The steaming water sluiced over his head as he resurfaced. He ran his hands through his hair, slicking back the long black curls out of his face and leaned back. “How was your day?”

“Jeremy and I had an adventure down on the beach this afternoon,” she said, running a sponge across his chest. He purred as her nails lightly grazed his nipple. He looked at her through his lashes and was certain she was trying to hide a knowing smirk. “We came upon some seals sunning themselves on the sand.”

Ross smiled, a memory tickling the edge of his consciousness. “What did the lad do?”

“He squealed loud enough to startle the beasts, then chased them down into the surf!” she laughed. Ross cocked his head to get a better look at her. “’Tis true!” she squeaked, squeezing another spongeful of water over his head. “I barely caught him before he ran into the sea.”

“Fitting, since he was almost born in it,” Ross teased. She gave him a splash for his troubles. “I remember when Francis and I surprised a herd of seals on the beach when we were children.”

“How old were you?” Demelza asked, the sponge set adrift in the tub. 

“We were young, perhaps eight or nine.” Her fingers rubbed his temples, making him groan. “I shall give you fifty years to stop that, my love.” She pressed a kiss to his temple before she resumed her massage. “We’d been at Nampara, harassing the chickens when my mother came outside and ordered us off to play until tea.” He paused, picturing his mother’s lovely smile and thick black hair as she shooed them out of the courtyard that afternoon. He and Francis had raced down to the beach, where they would collect seashells and play along the surf’s edge. “The day had been hot and I’d wanted to go swimming, but Francis hadn’t learned how to. We were running along the beach when we heard this tremendous noise, only to discover a bull seal and several cows not more than twenty feet from us.” He glanced up to see the look of sheer delight sparkling in Demelza’s eyes. “Well, we turned and ran back from whence we came, hearts thundering in our ears.” 

They laughed together for a moment. “It has been good… _very_ good spending time with Francis,” Ross said. “I’m still impressed with how he handled Tom’s case the other day.”

Demelza ran the sponge down his chest, and his body warmed, despite the heat of the water, and his mind wandered towards more intimate thoughts. “I can’t but admire Francis,” she said with a sigh.

_That_ shook him from his reverie. “What?”

“Well, he’s not as handsome as some nor as daring, but he has a wisdom,” she mused aloud, squeezing water over his head and making him smile despite the tickle of jealousy that teased around his neck. “He does value his own skin he’ll maybe live longer on that account

Ross frowned, glancing up at his wife. “Do I not have wisdom?”

“Can you tell if a man be a traitor to his friends or not?” she asked, arching her russet brows at him.

He barely kept himself from pouting like a toddler. “Perhaps you should have married my cousin,” he said flippantly.

“He’s a good man,” she said simply. “He has things that you lack.” She squeezed another great quantity of water over his head and he laughed. “But you have things that he lacks,” she continued, a smile in her voice. “Put the two of you together and that’d make a complete man.” Her fingertips caressed the nape of his neck.  Her comments were eerily close to a conversation he’d had with Verity at Julia’s christening, where they’d discussed Demelza and Elizabeth’s qualities, and he found he didn’t like it at all. 

“Do I leave such a lot to be desired?” he asked brusquely, sitting up and reaching to draw her face down towards his. He gave her a short, biting kiss that gentled under the warm caress of her tongue. Her breath was sweet as he arched his back, his damp fingers threading through the hair behind her ear as the kiss deepened. 

“Yes, Ross,” she smiled against his mouth. Her voice was husky, like satin on his skin, as she nuzzled his cheek with her nose. “A lot to be desired.” She met his mouth with hers, taking the lead as her right hand held his head still against the rim of the tub. The tip of her left index finger toyed with the dark curls of his chest hair at the hollow of his throat.

He purred, allowing himself to indulge in her lip's caress for as long as it was offered. She grinned when she leaned back onto her heels, sponging water down her his chest. “You look very content, Ross.”

“Content in wedded and domestic bliss, my dear,” he rumbled, opening his eyes to see hers gleaming stormy blue in the firelight. He took the sponge from her hand and tugged at her laces. “Join me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thought we needed some gentle fluff to recover from that episode. Thank you to all of your encouragement, everyone. I couldn't do this without you.


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